One Quiet Morning
by RayWritesThings
Summary: Donna discovers the truth about the Doctor's sleeping habits.


**Hello, readers. I've decided to start cross-posting some of my fics from AO3 and tumblr over to FFN, so if you recognize this story most likely you've read it on either of my accounts there (Ray_Writes and raywritesthings, respectively). If you haven't read it before, I hope you enjoy!**

**-RayWritesThings**

**One Quiet Morning**

Waking up on the TARDIS was always an interesting exercise. Usually they were in the Vortex, and no time meant Donna never quite had an idea as to how long she'd been sleeping.

The Doctor always had an answer for her, of course, whenever she wandered into the kitchen for breakfast, or even better when she woke to his lips on her forehead or cheek. He was always up hours before her, even though he didn't fall asleep till long after she had.

Time Lord thing, he'd claimed one night. She'd had half a mind to ask if no pajamas was a Time Lord thing, too, as he'd settled back against the headboard with a book in shirtsleeves and trousers. His free hand had been rubbing little circles into her hip, though, and that had been fairly distracting.

Which was why it was rather disorienting for Donna to wake up that particular morning to a warm weight curled up against her back. When she looked over her shoulder she was met with Spaceman's closed eyes and slack jaw breathing evenly in and out and warm on her neck.

Donna almost screamed.

He was asleep. Properly asleep. Not knocked over the head or drugged unconscious. _Asleep _.

She wriggled around a bit, very slightly at first. There was no way she'd be able to extricate herself completely with the way he'd wrapped himself around her, legs tangled and an arm slung round her middle.

She eventually got herself facing him. When the Doctor did little more than snuffle and try to burrow closer she figured it was safe. Donna pushed herself up on one elbow and looked down on her Spaceman.

He seemed different somehow. Not younger; no, there was a sort of ageless quality to him even like this, youthful — his cheek smushed against her pillow — yet ancient — the faint lines in his brow that hadn't quite gone away. But peaceful, yes.

His hair was even more in chaos than usual, sticking up in all directions in a way that was less carelessly tousled and more bedhead. The nine-hundred-something oh-so-important Time Lord with a bedhead. Ha! Donna had to resist the urge to laugh out loud and the equally strong urge to rake her fingers through the wild mess. Whether to tame it or just for the feel, she wasn't sure. She settled for smoothing it back from his forehead.

The Doctor sighed and mumbled something into the pillow that sounded rather like her name. Donna bit the inside of her cheek.

How rare was it, really, to see him like this? At rest if not entirely still. Shirt rumpled and untucked, the pale skin of his back on display when she peeked beneath the blankets. She took perhaps a longer look than necessary to confirm. It was the sort of quiet intimacy she hadn't even thought to dream of from the alien, even now that they were dating. They hardly ever slowed down enough to just have a moment. Donna wondered if she really was just dreaming.

If she was, her subconscious had a good eye for detail. She could count each and every one of the freckles scattered across his cheeks if she wanted. She could kiss them.

She wanted to.

Donna leaned down, holding her hair back with one hand, and touched her lips to his skin. It prickled. He had _stubble _. This was a whole new discovery. There was something rougher about it that she kind of liked. She kissed him again, just for the novelty, and brushed a thumb over his cheekbone with a breathy laugh.

The Doctor made another of those soft noises, his nose scrunching adorably. Donna could not believe this. The arm that still rested across her lap tightened for a moment before his mouth opened wide in a yawn.

That was that, then. "Morning," Donna greeted softly.

"Mm?"

She couldn't resist another giddy kiss to his cheek, though this time it had the Doctor blinking his eyes open.

He seemed bewildered to find himself where he was more than anything. "Morning?"

"Well whatever it is. I finally beat you waking up," she pointed out smugly.

"I was...asleep," he echoed dumbly.

"Yeah."

"How long?"

She shrugged. "I woke up and there you were, still here." He never stayed in bed in the morning. Perched on the edge to wake her up, maybe, but showered and fully dressed. Not this bleary-eyed morning-breath mess she hadn't know how badly she wanted.

"And, since you are…" When he didn't take her hint, Donna rolled her eyes before kissing him and pushing him onto his back. Honesty, he was such hard work, no wonder it'd taken them ages to get together.

"I must have been more tired than I thought," was the first thing out of his mouth when she broke away from his lips to breathe.

"So you overslept. Happens to everyone," Donna dismissed from her position straddling his waist. His hands rested on hers, but it seemed more automatic than anything. He was normally quicker to catch on than this. "Does it take your brain a while to come back online when you wake up or something?"

"But I don't sleep here."

"What?" Donna sat up. "What do you mean? You're in here all the time before I go to sleep."

"Yes, but not before _I _go to sleep," he explained, awareness giving way to unease. "I leave when I start to feel tired."

Donna froze. "But, why?" She felt incredibly vulnerable suddenly, having been so openly affectionate till now.

He scrubbed a hand over his cheek. "Donna, I'm a touch telepath."

"Yeah I know, Martian." Donna had a fair bit of experience with his touch telepathy at this point.

He seemed to recall that as well, for she could feel him squirm a bit. "Right, well, that makes sharing a bed a bit…"

"Awkward?" She guessed with a smirk.

The Doctor did not look even a little amused at the suggestion. "Unbearable. When I'm awake, I have a measure of control over what I send to you, if I send anything. I can't do that when I'm asleep. What I see, you would see."

"And you don't have awkward dreams," she said, a slow, dreadful realization coming to her.

He chuckled bitterly, turning his face away. "No, I haven't dreamt in a long time, Donna. When I can get to sleep at all."

"The Time War." It wasn't a question.

"Among other things." He glanced back up at her, and there was something small and ashamed in his gaze, even as he reached up to cup her cheek. "Donna, please tell me I didn't — I can't seem to remember any nightmares, but whatever it was I can take it away."

She shook her head immediately. "Even if you did, I wouldn't want you to take it back. It's not your fault. But I don't think you have to worry, cause I don't remember anything either."

He stared up at her, stunned. "Really?"

"Really. You must have slept straight through the night." He hardly looked like he believed her. "When was the last time you slept without a nightmare?"

The Doctor didn't immediately answer.

"Oh Spaceman." Donna did roll off him now, only to shuffle a bit further up the mattress to wrap her arms around him properly. She gave up fighting the impulse to run her hand through his hair, too, though it turned out she needn't have held out at all as he relaxed into her touch with a little sigh.

"You know you can tell me this stuff, right? I want you to tell me. That's part of the whole relationship bit."

"I know," he said quietly. "I suppose I didn't want to spoil our relationship with my problems."

"It's not a Time Lord thing at all, is it?" She asked. "Not sleeping. I should've realized that was bollocks."

The slightest smile twitched at the corner of his lips. "We don't need as much as humans, but...I probably get about the bare minimum I should. Maybe a little less. It's never been a problem before. There wasn't any reason to bother you—"

"You not sleeping well is not being a bother," she interrupted him firmly. "And anyway, you didn't have any nightmares last night."

"It was a fluke. They'll come back." He sounded so certain, gaze distant and haunted like already the images — the memories — were tormenting him.

"Then we'll handle them when they do."

"No." He shook his head. "Not we. I swore I wouldn't burden you with it when we started this, Donna. I won't. You have no idea—"

The Doctor broke free of her hold, sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He sat there, shoulders hunched and breaths coming short and sharp, not looking at her.

Donna pushed herself onto hands and knees, crawled up behind him, and placed a hand tentatively on his shoulder. When he didn't shrug her off, she looped her arms around his neck, hands resting over his hearts.

"There are things I've seen — things I've _done _— that would make you run from me," he confessed, barely above a whisper. "For good this time."

"I don't scare as easy anymore," she reminded. Donna pressed her lips to the nape of his neck and felt him shiver. "And I don't know what you're doing with me if you think I would."

"Donna, I consider myself lucky enough that you want to travel with me at all—" His breath hitched when she kissed him again just behind the ear.

"If anyone got lucky it was me finding you again in the first place, but we'll split the difference." One of her hands found the opening in his wrinkled dress shirt, and she began rubbing his chest in slow circles. "You know how lucky I felt waking up today to you still here?"

A muffled groan passed his lips, and she could tell it was taking every ounce of willpower in him to remain sitting where he was, hands clenched in the sheets. Daft, stubborn Martian.

"This is what a relationship is, Spaceman," she told him. "Not all fancy dinners and presents. It's the bits in between, too, that might not be so pretty."

His eyes closed and his head bowed. "I don't want to hurt you. No one should have to see those things."

"No one should have to go through it alone. You think watching you do it doesn't hurt?" One of his hands came up and rested over hers. "We don't know if they'll come back. Maybe they will. And I want to know about it. I want to help you."

"You do help me, Donna. All the time."

"Yeah, you think you'd learn to just let me by now."

He huffed a laugh, then turned his head towards her. There was a debate going on in his mind; she could practically see it play out across his features. "You'll tell me if it's ever too much."

"As long as you promise not to hide yourself away again," she said. "I knew what I signed up for, Doctor." There was no doubt in her mind that they'd be having this discussion again, and probably more heated, once the situation was actually upon them. Best to make herself clear right from the start regardless.

"I suppose you did," he agreed with a rueful smile, probably thinking the same. He brought his other hand up and rested the tips of his fingers just under her chin, tilting his head to meet her mouth with his. It was a slow kiss, gentle despite the slight scrape of his stubble. One of his knees slid up onto the mattress to better angle himself towards her and Donna pressed herself a little closer to him. He wasn't sending her anything mentally, but she could feel the tension leaking from his lanky frame all on her own. He was practically swaying into her. Their lips eventually slowed till they broke apart only to rest their foreheads together instead.

"So, breakfast?" It lacked the usual enthusiasm he put into it whenever he would wake her up. In fact, she wasn't sure if it was the result of his bedraggled state or their talk but he somehow still looked drained, if at least calmer than before. He wasn't anywhere near ready to face whatever the universe was going to throw at them today.

"Come back to bed," said Donna.

He raised an eyebrow. "I've just slept more last night than I can remember in a long time."

"Yeah, and we just established that's a pretty low bar." She softened her tone and repeated, "Come back to bed, Spaceman."

"And what if I can't sleep?"

Typical him, being difficult. Donna wasn't having it. "Then we'll find other reasons to have a lie in."

"We will, will we?" A tender smile was tugging at his lips now and just the slightest twinkle came to his eyes, chasing the last of his distress away.

"Yeah, I think we will." She kissed him, this time opening her mouth to allow a teasing swipe of her tongue across his lips. "Come back to bed."

He was already turning himself fully around in her arms. "Yes, Madame."


End file.
